S Rozan - Trail of Blood

All right, that was enough. If the moroseness in here got any thicker I’d need a cleaver to cut through it. There had to be something I could do.

Zhang Li, now. Mr. Chen’s cousin. Hadn’t I not pushed him for long enough?

I dug out his card and called. A pleasant woman told me in Cantonese that I’d reached Fast River Imports, but the boss was out and she didn’t know where to reach him or when he’d be back. I gave her my name, which did not make the boss miraculously reappear. Whether that meant he really wasn’t there or he was ducking me, I had no idea. I asked her to have Mr. Zhang call me at his earliest possible convenience and hung up.

All right, that hadn’t worked, but I still had to get out and move. Maybe I’d pop up to Mr. Zhang’s office, just in case he was one of those people-there were a lot of them, actually-who didn’t know how much he wanted to talk to me until he saw me, and saw me, and saw me.

Joel would have laughed, would have said, Chinsky, hold your horses. Have a little patience, he’d have suggested, lots of doors were still open. I just had to wait until David Rosenberg got in, until Zhang Li called me back, until Wong Pan tried to peddle Rosalie’s jewelry up the street here.

Joel would have mentioned something else, too, though. Chinsky? What exactly are you up to? Did you miss it? We’ve been fired.

Yes, well, maybe it was time to take that up with the client.

Alice’s cell rang three times, and then, just as I was starting to grit my teeth, she answered. “Lydia! How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” I said. Which was true, if you didn’t count the sudden visions of Joel with blood all over the front of his shirt that flashed into my brain every few hours. “Fine.”

“I’m glad,” Alice said. “I hope you’re calling with good news. Have the police found anything?”

“No, but I have.” I ignored the “good news” part. “Alice, I called you before. Did you get my message?”

“You did? I’m sorry. I have eleven new messages, and the truth is, I was too dispirited to even look at them.”

“We need to talk,” I said. “Where are you?”

“Washington.”

“Washington?”

“I have friends here. I thought it might help to come down and see them.”

“When will you be back?”

“Tomorrow or the next day.”

“But you haven’t checked out of the Waldorf?”

“It’s tourist season. I have the room booked for two weeks. If I give it up I’ll never get another. I’ll call you when I’m back.”

“No, wait. This is really important. Have you spoken to your clients in Zurich?”

“Yes, I told them what had happened. They agreed we should suspend the search for the jewelry until Joel’s murder is solved. I’m sorry, I know-”

“Alice, what do you know about them?”

“About the Kleins?”

“That’s the name they gave you?”

“What do you mean?”

“They told you they’re Horst Peretz’s daughter’s sons?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Alice, Horst Peretz didn’t have a daughter. He never had any children.”

A pause. “Lydia, what are you saying?”

“That’s why I asked what you know about them.”

“What do you mean, Horst never had children? How do you know that?”

“Because Rosalie did. She and Chen Kai-rong had a son, and I’ve met him, and he told me.”

A much longer pause. “You’ve met him? He’s still alive? He’s in New York?”

“Yes. He recognized the jewelry photos.”

“Oh, my God. You’re sure? Rosalie’s son?”

“Yes. When you get back I’ll introduce you. But then-”

“Yes, I follow you. Then who are my clients?”

“Right. So you can see-”

“Have you told this to Detective Mulgrew?”

“You can’t believe he’d care. But Alice, there’s more. The police found Wong Pan’s hotel.”

She caught her breath. “They found him?”

“No, just where he’d been staying. But he seems to have tried to call you. At the Waldorf. He didn’t get you, did he?”

“Wong Pan? Of course not. What do you mean, he seems to have tried to call me?”

“A pay phone near his hotel called the Waldorf.”

“Oh. But that could be coincidence.”

“It could. There’s another thing, though, and it’s bad: The police think Wong Pan killed someone. A cop from Shanghai who’d followed him here.”

“The Shangahi police followed him?”

“But the cop was murdered. In Wong Pan’s room.”

“My God. Lydia, this is… But then, you have spoken to the police.”

“Not to Mulgrew. To a detective friend of mine, who’s… involved.”

“Lydia, I want you to listen to me. I need to think about this. About the Kleins. I’ll call them in Zurich as soon as it’s morning there. And I’ll come back to New York tomorrow and we’ll talk. But this is important: If what you’re saying is true, you have got to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Lydia! Stop working on this case! Tell Detective Mulgrew, tell your detective friend, and then leave it alone. If Wong Pan killed someone, if my clients are lying to me-whatever this means, one thing that’s clear, the situation is dangerous. It sounds likely now that Joel’s murder may well be part of this case. And I want you out of it! I won’t be responsible for you getting hurt.”

“Alice, this is my choice. You’re not responsible, but I can’t just-”

“Lydia, I fired you to keep you safe. You must stop.”

“I don’t feel like I can.”

“What do you want me to do, get a restraining order?”

I came to a screeching halt. “What?”

“This is my business. I hired you, I fired you, and now you won’t leave it alone. If it’s the only way I can keep you out of danger, I’ll do it. Please, Lydia. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“You can’t do that,” I said, wondering if she could.

“Lydia, please. Leave it alone until I get back tomorrow. We’ll decide how best to move forward from there.”

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. “Will you call me as soon as you’re back in New York?”

“Yes.”

“All right. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

I clicked off. It was possible my voice sounded a little more resigned, a little less resolute, than I felt. Alice could interpret that however she wanted. I never actually said I’d give up the case, though, and she couldn’t quote me as saying I had. Because, in fact, she was wrong on one particular.

She hadn’t hired me. Joel had.

I called Bill, got voice mail, told him we were fired again and to call me. Then I gathered up my things and started to move.

In five minutes I was back on the other end of Canal. Outside Bright Hopes I paused, letting my gaze sweep the rings, the necklaces, and the ridiculously adorable gold zodiac animals on a Plexiglas Milky Way. This was the bridge between earth and heaven, where the Weaver Maid and the Shepherd meet once a year for all eternity, brought together by their steadfast love.

Behind the jewels and silly animals, Irene Ng’s smiling face appeared. She came around and opened the door. “Did you want something? Mr. Chen’s not here, but I’d be happy to help you.”

“I wanted Mr. Chen, so I guess I’m out of luck. Is there somewhere I can reach him?”

“He didn’t say. I’ll tell him you were looking for him.”

“What about his cousin? Zhang Li?”

“Oh, I have no idea. He comes here a lot, but his business is on Mott Street. Do you want me to call him for you?”

That sounded like a good idea. Zhang Li might be in to Irene Ng even if he wasn’t in to me.

But no. Smiling apologetically, she put the phone down. “Fay doesn’t know where he is or when he’ll be back.”